


fire

by sunshinemysme (orphan_account)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Dry Humping, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fire, Grinding, Happy Birthday Han Jumin, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Moaning, Neck Kissing, Non-Graphic Smut, Smut, Snow Storm, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 14:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sunshinemysme
Summary: The wind blows outside, the storm picking up, but Zen doesn’t notice. The candle burns.





	fire

On a cold, late winter’s day, moonlight shines through the window and spills onto the bed, the fire on a nearby candle flickering and dancing with each creak of the bed and each hot, desperate breath.

It’s _hot_, too hot for the snow outside, and Zen is suffocating in the humidity, hands pulling and tugging at Jumin’s hair, hips rolling rhythmically against his his lap, humping him with desperation and neediness, lips moving together in a passionate, eager, intoxicating way.

He hums into the kiss, rolling his hips again, feeling the _fire_ of Jumin’s hands roaming under his shirt and up his back, the _burn_ of grinding against his lap and gliding his tongue across his lips.

Creak, creak, the sound of lips parting and meeting, a low moan from Jumin that sets off an explosion inside Zen.

Heaps of snow fall from the sky, cold, white flakes racing to the ground. Zen sees it through the foggy window, the burning candle next catching his eye before Jumin’s teeth sink into his bottom lip and he _groans_, pulling his hands away from Jumin’s hair to grip at his shirt.

“Asshole,” he said. “That hurt.”

“You liked it.”

“Shut up.”

He unbuttons Jumin’s shirt, pulling it off and throwing it onto the floor with the rest of their strewn clothes, hands gliding across Jumin’s chest, lips capturing his for another, needy kiss.

There’s a shiver down Zen’s back when he thinks about the cold, overtaken by the burn, the heat, the _fire_ of Jumin’s hands roaming up and down and higher and _lower_, god, it’s like a drug.

Zen breaks the kiss, moaning through heated breaths, incomprehensible words and curses escaping his mouth.

“Oh- oh- oh _god, fuck—!”_

He humps him faster and faster with each word, hands clutching Jumin’s hair again as his lips reach Zen’s neck, teeth nipping at his skin, burning, _burning—_

“Are you insecure?”

One more roll of his hips before his movements slow.

He’s out of breath, panting and groaning and heart pounding. With blurred vision, his eyes meet Jumin’s.

“I... was thinking,” Jumin says, voice soft and hesitant.

Zen blinks. “About me?”

“I’m always thinking about you.”

The wind blows outside, the storm picking up, but Zen doesn’t notice.

“It’s okay if you’re not self confident,” Jumin says. “I... just want to know why.”

His lips return to Zen’s neck, kissing under his chin, Zen’s hands moving to his shoulders and mind racing. The candle flickers, the fire burning, the two of them unbothered by the snow.

There’s a hot, hot breath against Zen’s skin, and a finger pulling at the ponytail draped across his back. He closes his eyes to flaming darkness, illuminated with reds and yellows, and a splitting headache.

“I am self confident.”

The sting of teeth biting lightly, the _humidity_ of a tongue gliding across his skin.

“I just... sometimes I feel...”

The creak of the bed with another slow, steady grind against Jumin’s lap.

“... like I’m admired more for my looks than my acting...”

His heart is racing and the next kiss to his neck is a stinging burn. He’s drowning in the hottest ocean, yet falling into fire. His fingers curl into Jumin’s hair, a soft moan escaping his lips, the euphoric kisses interrupted by words.

“You’re beautiful, Zen.”

Snow, snow against the window, snow falling from the sky, snow piling on the ground.

“You’re beautiful for who you are.”

Heat, heat growing between them and rising and burning and staying.

“I admire you. For more than how you look. I admire everything about you.”

One, two, three seconds that fan the flame, fire, _fire—_

“I love you.”

_Fire_, burning and sparking and crackling and fuck, he sucks in a breath and he- he can’t _speak_, just moan as Jumin pushes against him and quickens his movements and touches him _everywhere_, his words striking him like a bolt of lightning.

“You—”

_“I love you.”_ Jumin’s words are desperate and breathless. “I’m glad, I’m- I’m so glad I took the time to understand you.”

“You- you _understand—?”_

Zen, he used to reside in the cold, the storm, snow falling down on him, fingers stinging, shivering, freezing, a foggy breath and a red nose.

“I love you, _I love you—”_

But now he sits by the hearth, ashes, fire, burning wood, heat overtaking him, steady breathing, a sense of tranquility. The fire grew larger and burned his skin and set him aflame and god, it’s the best feeling in the world, throwing Jumin onto his bed and kissing him and touching him and _understanding_ him.

“Oh god, _oh god_, I—” Zen’s breaths are long and uncontrolled as he speaks. “I- I can’t believe I can- I can understand you, too.”

“You can—?”

And in an instant he captures Jumin’s lips again, hips rolling and hands exploring his chest, pleasure rising and _burning_, like the fire, the heat of the moment that sends his head spiraling.

Not a second passes before Jumin returns the kiss, movements rough and quick and passionate, hands moving down and _down_, moans escaping his mouth and fire crackling in a euphoric, mutual understanding.

One more grind against his lap before Zen feels the pleasure rising and rising and reaching a high point and Jumin pulls him closer, pushing harder, one last groan before—

“Oh god, oh- _ohhh- fuck—!”_

And he’s falling backwards, landing on the bed, Jumin crawling on top of him and leaning down, pressing a kiss to his neck before whispering into his ear.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

And his fingers tug at Zen’s clothes, the fire growing larger and larger and never, ever dying. It’s beautiful this way. He’s so, so much happier, living in the heat rather than the cold, and he knows he’ll wake up the next morning in that same, intoxicating warmth and blissful heat.

The wind blows outside, the storm picking up, but Zen doesn’t notice.

On a cold, late winter’s day, moonlight shines through the window and spills onto the bed, the fire on a nearby candle flickering and dancing with each creak of the bed and each hot, desperate breath.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The candle burns.

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday jumin! thank u for reading!
> 
> tumblr: bisexualray


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